How not to succeed in business: A true story
Two guys sit at an East Village bar on a Sunday afternoon, one working on his computer, both nursing a beverage and taking in the day's football. An extremely drunken Australian girls walks up to them.
"Are you writing a screenplay?" she says.
"No."
"Well, if you're writing a screenplay, I know who you should cast. Look at this!"
She produces a video device of some sort. Presses play. And proudly shares with these two strangers a movie of herself fellating her boyfriend. (Her boyfriend, who happens to be standing just a bit to her left.) "I'm going to sell this for $2 million."
There are nervous smiles and stunned laughter. Hands are raised in expressions of disbelief. One of the guys takes the camera and says, "Listen, if you really want to make a good movie, you're going to have to work on this lighting." He's an actor.
But wait: Did I miss something? When did this become O.K.? It seems like not too long ago that the discovery of such a home movie would have been cause for much embarrassment among friends. It was not too long ago that celebrities caught in the video act would at least feign mortification (even if they were shouting hallelujahs all the way to the box office). Whole sitcom episodes used to be devoted to this sort of thing. But now? A girl gets drunk, and this? We truly are in a sad, surreal sort of cultural moment.
